


Bagging a Bully

by katedf



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katedf/pseuds/katedf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After putting Doug Anderson in jail, Richard faces his feelings about having been bullied. Post-ep for 2.6</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bagging a Bully

Doug Anderson congratulated Richard Poole on closing the case and finding his wife’s killer. Richard had trouble keeping a bland expression on his face. Anderson had never had a good word for Richard in all the time they’d been at the same station. Richard waited for the punch line. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Look, you know how it is,” said Anderson. “We’re cops. It’s us against them. Give me five minutes with him. Just five minutes. Come on, copper to copper, what do you say?”

“No,” Richard replied firmly.

“He killed my WIFE, for crissakes. Can’t you see that?”

“Not at my station. We do things—”

“By the book. Yeah, yeah. But come on, this isn’t London. Who’d know?”

“I would. My team would. At my station we follow the rules.” Richard turned away from Anderson and glanced at his watch. 

Camille said, “We’d better be going.” She picked up her purse and Richard followed her out.

Anderson remained standing by Richard’s desk. Damn the man and his principles. Poole had always made him uncomfortable. Nobody likes to admit they’re bad at the job, and deep down inside Anderson knew that he’d never be the detective Poole was. So he’d bullied and belittled the smarter man. “He had it coming. Always serious, never one of the boys. Tight-arsed little—” he mumbled, then stopped when one of the officers walked over to him. 

Dwayne held out the keys to the cell. “I don’t have a wife. But I have a sister. Five minutes.” With a solemn nod, he handed over the keys. Anderson watched Dwayne walk to the door and stand there, blocking anyone from coming back inside. 

Richard and Camille stood with Fidel on the porch, positioned where they could not be seen from inside. 

“It will work,” said Camille softly. She squeezed Richard’s hand. “Garbage stinks, even if you don’t notice it at first.”

When Dwayne nodded to them, they crept back into the station. Anderson couldn’t see the team, but they could hear him.

Anderson immediately began to berate Stuart for messing up his part of the murder. He threatened the younger man and told him that he had better keep quiet.

“If you don’t say anything, they can’t prove this. Just because I happened to be in Manchester when Teague’s wife died, doesn’t mean anything. Thousands of people could have been the driver that killed her. So keep your damn mouth shut! These locals can’t prove anything.”

“I think you’ve just proved it for us,” said Richard, walking toward the cell.

“Whatever you think you heard, you have no proof.” Anderson walked out of Stuart’s cell. 

“For starters, there’s Mr. Stuart’s testimony.”

“Who’ll believe a drunk? Nice try, Dickie boy, but you’ve got nothing.” Anderson headed for the door, but Dwayne blocked his way.

Fidel turned on the mini-recorder that had been hidden in the cell. Anderson’s voice said, “We had a deal. You do mine, I do yours.”

“Doug Anderson,” said Richard. “I am arresting you for murder. Fidel, Read him his rights and lock him up.”

“You won’t make it stick! You violated my privacy.”

Richard shook his head. “No expectation of privacy in a jail cell. _Crown versus Smythe,_ 1997\. You should have spent less time in the pub and more time reading cases. And one more thing. My name is Richard.” He looked Anderson in the eye and didn’t waver. For the first time ever, Anderson blinked first. 

Richard watched as Fidel walked Anderson to a cell and locked him in. 

Richard turned his back on the prisoner and said, “Right, then. Dwayne, you have the recorder?”

“Bagged, Chief.” Dwayne held up the labeled evidence bag and added it to the box of evidence. 

“Excellent. Please call Mr. Teague and update him. The insurance company will have to be notified about the solved case. I don’t think they will quibble about the money, as it’s quite clear that Teague was not part of the conspiracy. Camille, we should tell Miss Palmer what happened. Best to do that in person. I'll call the Manchester police when we get back.” 

Richard walked over to Anderson’s cell and said, “This may not be London, but here in Saint Marie, we do know how to close a case. By the book. Attention to details, and bang to rights.”

Turning away from the cell, Richard said, “Camille? After you.” 

Camille gave him a brilliant smile and said, “Well, done, Sir!” She glanced over her shoulder to look at Anderson. She could swear steam was coming out of his ears.

At the door, Richard turned back and said, “Camille and I shouldn’t be too long at the villa. So, Catherine’s in 45 minutes?”

“Okay, Chief. I’ll tell Catherine to put the kettle on,” said Dwayne.

Camille started the engine and looked over at Richard, who was staring blankly out the side window. “Sir? … Richard!”

“What?”

“Seat belt.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” 

“Are you all right? 

“Yes, just distracted. So many scenes from the past are running through my mind. I’m trying hard not to gloat.”

“Go ahead and gloat! I hear that life in prison is especially unpleasant for policemen.”

“Please don’t, Camille. I know you mean well, but could we just, you know, try a little quiet time?”

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Camille stole glances at Richard. For someone who had triumphed, he seemed unusually tense.

Janice Palmer took the news of the conspiracy to commit murder very calmly. She asked how soon she could take her sister’s body home for burial. Camille gave her the contact information to make arrangements. She and Richard stood to leave. 

Richard said, “Miss Palmer, I expect your brother-in-law will ask you for money to pay his solicitors. You should be aware that that there is no legal requirement for you to take on that responsibility.”

She smiled up at the detectives and said, “It’s a great deal of money that I’ve inherited. I think I’ll take a good piece of that and donate it to spinal injury research in memory of my sister. I don’t think I’ll be donating to Doug’s defense fund. Thank you both for resolving this.”

They drove away in silence. Camille could feel tension emanating from Richard. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“That wasn’t really a question. I think you need to talk about this.” She pulled into a roadside overlook and turned off the engine.

“Camille, can we please go back to town?

“No. You’re scaring me. I’ve never seen you like this. You should be happy, even gloating. At the least, you should be satisfied to have solved the case. But you’re practically vibrating, like you’re going to burst into tears or hysterical laughter any minute.”

“Camille, please…”

“No! Talk to me. I know he bullied you, made you the butt of jokes.”

“You can’t know what it’s like. You were probably always the popular girl, the one with all the friends. I can’t imagine anyone bullying you. I was never popular. I was an easy target.”

“That’s what bullies do, Richard. They find someone with a weakness that’s easy to exploit. Anderson wanted to be top dog in the pack. He did it by being the fun guy that everyone likes, and he used the most serious guy as a target. It was the only way he could be a success—fun guy against serious guy. He certainly couldn’t do his job as well as you do. A lot of bullying comes from insecurity and low self-worth, you know.”

“Spare me the psychology, Camille. I do know all of that. But it isn’t comforting when you’re on the receiving end of the jokes and humiliation.”

“All right. Just one more bit of psychology. Some bullies behave the way they do because they were bullied. When Anderson came here and started calling you Dickie and being disrespectful, you could have compensated by showing your authority and bullying us, barking orders. Or you could have blamed us when he complained that you hadn’t solved the murder in the first 24 hours. But you didn’t fall into that trap, Richard, because you’re a better man than he is.”

Richard sighed. “I think I’ll feel better when we get him shipped back to England. I spent years constantly bracing myself for the next attack. As long as he’s sitting in that cell, I’ll feel like I’m waiting for his next taunt.”

“Richard. Richard, look at me.” Camille reached up and turned his face toward hers. “There is nothing he can do to hurt you now. Whatever he says, it won’t lower our estimation of you one bit. He can’t cut you out of our pack. We know your faults and foibles and we wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Her touch did more to calm him than hours of discussion on the subject of bullying. He smiled a bit and said, “Honestly? Not less, you know, _English?"_

Camille laughed. He was back to his old self. “Welllll, maybe a bit less English.”

When they got to Catherine’s, a beer was waiting for Camille and a pot of tea was steeping for Richard. 

Fidel, still studying for his sergeant’s exam, asked Richard, “Chief, what was that court case about privacy in jail?”

“What case?”

“The one you cited earlier. I want to remember that in case it comes up on the test.”

Richard smiled, “It won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

Richard chuckled, “I made it up. There is such a case, but I didn’t remember the name or the year. I realized that Anderson wouldn’t know, so I made up a name. It’s funny, he used to make fun of the details I knew, always doubting me in front of the others, even when he knew I was right. But I knew he wouldn’t do that today. Not when I had my team to back me up. So, thank you, team.” Richard raised his teacup in salute.

Fidel left to go home and study. Dwayne took the kitten inside to show it to Catherine. Camille and Richard sat finishing their drinks. 

“Camille?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For before. I … I’m not good at feelings. And I know it’s foolish to let something that happened years ago get to me. But it does. Maybe if I ever figure out how to loosen up, I’ll learn to let go of hurts, too. Anyhow, what I’m trying to say is thank you for making me face my feelings about Anderson. And thanks for the kind things you said.”

“It’s what friends do. You know, when Anderson said all that stuff about you not having friends, not having a girlfriend, that was so cruel. He is such a pig! I wanted to go out on the porch and hit him, or hug you, or kiss you, or remind you about a party we were going to. Something, anything to show him he was wrong, and wipe that smug look off his face. But then I realized that if I kissed you, he’d probably tell someone we were having an affair, so that he could get you in trouble and undermine the case. So I thought better of it.”

“I can’t decide if I’m relieved or disappointed,” said Richard wryly.

Camille pulled a lipstick and a pen out of her purse. She freshened her lipstick. Then she wrote IOU on a cocktail napkin and kissed it, leaving a perfect lip print. She folded it and tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

“When you decide, let me know.”


End file.
